


In Your Artificial Heart

by LoniceraAstray



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Artificial Intelligence, M/M, Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-07 17:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19855894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoniceraAstray/pseuds/LoniceraAstray
Summary: When the cruelty of WWIII reached a level that people couldn't bear, they agreed on creating Artificial Nations, AN, to negotiate and draft a constitution for the World Government. However,not all nations have a good reason to act according to the scheme. Artificial Nation AU. Science/Political fiction and stuff. USXUK. RussiaXChina. M for later chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello? Is this fandom still alive? This is my first fanfic. I feel the need to write it down for the idea has been hovering in my mind for a while. This is a (kind of) political fiction, so different ideologies might be involved and I'm afraid some would feel offended somehow, so you're warned. Plus, I'm not a native English speaker, so please tell me if I make some linguistic mistake. Enjoy.

He knew he was dreaming.

Not the occasional doubt that haunts you when you are awake. Definitely dreaming, for otherwise how could you read thousands of years of experience like a book?

It was a raw-edged book with fuzzy letters and ink stain, though. He couldn't even see where it began, or where it ended. The first thousands of pages seemed all the same. Stuck in the jungles, fighting beasts and cannibals. Yanking out bone arrows with tiny, trembling hands. Survive. Yet not let survive. Assembled in tribes, fighting each other. Sailing across the channel, fighting continentals. Conquer. And be conquered. Civil war. Men of their own interests tearing the land apart. Bloodshed. Demagoguery. Printed and handed down to generations after generations.

Is this how life is? He couldn't remember how many pages he'd been through. He felt tired, yet kept on searching.

Sailing out the ocean to conquer some more.

And then there was him.

A little boy bounced across the meadow, leaving a dark green track behind. Honey blond hair messy in the wind. Big blue eyes matched the cloudless sky. Chubby face caressed by breeze, pink with tiny, rolling droplets.

And the lovely creature smiled.

"England! You are back!"

"Yes, I am, my dear America, poppet."

He sailed out the ocean once again. Not only to conquer, but also to protect.

He went through the embarrassment to ask the tailor to make boy's fine clothes, even if they would not fit in a few months. He stayed up late for weeks only to clumsily pare pieces of wood into little toy soldiers. He even picked up long-abandoned knowledge of maths and physics, hoping to cultivate the boy right.

He would give everything to that bright, bright smile.

He had never dreamed of that day.

He skipped that page, for it had been painful enough to experience, now too painful to recall. All he remembered was a cold yet youthful voice soaked in grey, biting rain.

"I want independence from you."

"I'm not your little brother anymore."

_And_

"You used to look so great."

Things began to blur after that. He was busy running his flourishing country, waging wars, defending colonies, promoting industry and trade. There was the blinding glory that no former empire had dreamed of. There were two world wars in which his people were weakened yet stayed strong. There was the toppling of a certain wall which brought hope of eternal peace, which then turn to disillusion.

And then, there was another front that he had to attend to. And there were they, standing side by side facing the scarred, terrifying war field. America let go of his hand. Seized by a strong impulse, he reached out, grabbing the other's forearm, pulling him down so their lips met.

"Promise me you will come back," he breathed.

"I promise," America said softly, then gave him a big grin before climbing onto a fighter plane, waving to him until the door closed.

His sight blurred.

And then there was darkness.

He woke up.

* * *

He woke up.

He knew he was not human—I mean, if you can be conscious like a human while being conscious with the fact that you are not human, that is.

His brain functioned well, though the hundred-year-dream seemed to be the only content in his brain and it seemed to occupy the location where the memories should be. He could remember every detail of it. What made him feel not human was not what he was lacking, but rather what he was capable of.

He could _see_ what was going on in his people's life.

Now, if he concentrates and locates any spatial-temporal entity in his country, he could see it. He could see a fierce debate taking place in a meeting room in what seemed to be the relics of the White House in a war-torn Washington D.C.. He could see a baby weeping in a stroller while her mother and the nurse were discussing something involving nuclear radiation in a state-run hospital in California. He could also see thousands of bodies being washed ashore in a wasted coast in Rhode Island…Wait, was this what his country looked like now? He searched his memory but could find no answer.

"Mr. America."

He looked up from the bed which he hadn't been noticing he was lying on until now. He also had a suit on. In the light of a sharp, cold lamp, he recognized a woman coming at his direction. She had medium build, chocolate skin and dark, curling hair. Few wrinkles, which suggested her age being at most 40. She looked tired but amiable. Not too bad a situation to wake up to, America thought.

"I'm Julia Oliveira, United Nations Secretary General," She reached out a hand, shaking America's forcefully, "Glad to meet you, Mr. America,"

"Nice to meet you, too, er…" America stuttered, not use to socializing after sleeping for God knew how long.

"Miss. Just call me Julia. If you don't mind, now it's about time to meet your colleagues outside. Come with me." Her high heels started clicking toward the door. America suddenly felt a flash of uneasiness, he opened his mouth, wanting to ask something. Julia turned around, smiling,

"Don't worry, I'll fill you in there. On everything."

America jumped out of bed to follow her. However, he just couldn't get an image out of his mind: a little girl alone in what used to be a park, now a grey mess, holding the barrel of a wasted tank gun, spinning round and round and round.


	2. Chapter 2

People began entering the main meeting room. None of them talked, neither did they exchange glances or gestures. The air seemed to freeze, permeated with uncertainty and mistrust and hidden hostility.

Julia kept wearing her tired smile. She sat at one end of the oval table, piles of documents at hand. When everyone settled, she began,

"Welcome, my dear nations. I'm Julia Oliveira, United Nations Secretary General, serving from 2028 till now. I'm from Brazil, if you need to know.

"You must have tons of questions in your head, and it's my job to fill you in on some basic facts, including who you are, what happened in the past several years which you have no memory of, why you are here and what you are expected to do.

"You must have figured out that although you physically resemble human, you are not. You might have found that your memories and perceptions are related to a certain country. Well, that is. You _are_ that country.

"Precisely, you are _made_ to personify that country. If you search your memory, you would be surprised how fast the AI technology was developing in those pre-war years. We were able to manufacture artificial soldiers during early years of the war. If there are some great invention of technology remaining unscathed after war, AI is one of them.

"However, you are not ordinary AI aimed at replacing human. You are specifically made to represent your country. You are artificial nations, or AN, so we call.

Noise began rising in the room. Several surprised glances went to Julia as she continued,

"I know it's hard to believe, but that's how you came into being. We gather all kinds of data from around the countries: their mythology, history, religion, political system, climate, people's intentions, and so on, to craft your personalities and memories. Your ability to 'see' any part of your country comes from the GPS and surveillance systems. You are also capable of accessing and processing any statistic data from your country due to the big data technology. Your movements, decisions, thoughts and beliefs are reflections of your people's will, which might change through time. Your appearances are also decided by your people's preferences. Any questions for now?"

"Does that mean…we have no free will?" Norway asked hesitantly.

"Yes, but only in the sense that your thoughts have no independent source other than people's will. Actually, whether human beings have thoughts independent from physical events is still a myth. In another sense, you can say you have free will because you have rationality and the ability to choose among different options."

"Well then, are our memories fake?" China knit his eyebrows, deep in thought.

"Yes, but again, only in the sense that they are not spatial-temporal events in the physical world. They are truth at a higher level. In your memories, your emotions, beliefs, interaction with other countries all reflect your people's collective will. Therefore, I strongly recommend that you regard them as real."

Silence.

"Heh, isn't that the biggest joke? I haven't been a country for a century and a half, yet I, at my people's request, suddenly regain existence and have a happy memory with my little brother! Who the hell is manipulating us? And what for?!" The former country named Prussia stood up, leaning toward the Secretary General's seat, demanding an answer.

The dark-haired woman remained calm, "Please be patient, Mr. Prussia. This is what I shall explain in the next part.

"You might feel unfair that human beings manipulate your existence, but human race has lost even more dignity than you.

"In 2031, the Third World War broke out.

"It started from a strategic mistake that one superpower, A, decided that it was strong enough to destroy another superpower, B. When the two country's relationship began to tense, A didn't hesitate to wage war against B. At first it was limited both in range and means, for it was widely feared that a nuclear war might destroy the earth. However, when a bomb accidentally destroyed a nuclear plant and lead to hundreds of thousands of deaths of innocent people, things began to lose control. Nuclear and bio-chemical weapons were used. Towns and cities were eliminated. There were also famine, disease, earthquake and tsunami. Then there were uprising throughout the world, demanding peace and a global government. When world' s population was reduced to 700 million, the ruling elites conceded.

"However, former attempts to form a global government, like the League of Nations and United Nations, had all failed. There were several reasons, but the main reason is that countries wouldn't give up their sovereignty and national interest, although the outcome was against their very interest. Because of this, people became suspicious of national governments and their traditional diplomacy, wanting to make decisions on their own.

"After fierce debates and negotiations, the world leaders came to a conclusion: forming a world government is too huge a task for human beings. Different parties of interests should be coordinated, different cultures and religions should be respected, numerous data should be processed, personal interest and bias should be avoided…for example, in a democracy, if the world conference took place when a right wing leader was in power, there could be strong discontent and unrest on the left, which could potentially undermine the fragile peace.

"Finally, a world-wide referendum decided to make Artificial Nations as representatives of countries. Their task is to draft a constitution for the global government. For security, they were secretly settled in a rural area near Geneva, which is here.

"Now heed my words, I want to tell you some basic rules.

"First, you are to make your own agenda and rules for negotiation. However, the final draft of constitution should be unanimous.

"Second, you are not allowed to use force. The conference centre is heavily guarded, so there is no need to take arms with you. Don't think of gang fight either, we've agreed that if one initiated a fight, his or her country would be deprived the right to vote in the final draft.

"Third, you are not allowed to directly contact any person at home, regardless of their identity. This is to avoid being strongly affected by certain interest or bias.

"Fourth, you must have noticed that your memory about WWIII has been erased. That's because those memories would trigger extreme hate, which doesn't help for your current work. Try not to dig into those memories. Just as I have said, no one is completely innocent or guilty in this tragedy. It's humanity.

"Finally, there is surveillance in this main meeting room, but not in other places in this building. You are welcome to negotiate in groups, or in private, but if you want to ensure the legitimacy of your work, you're recommended to meet here, for the footage would go public later.

"I do hope you would understand the limits set on you. You may feel used, exploited or manipulated for we human made you out of purely utilitarian purposes. But that's the situation most human beings are in, if not long have been in. Remember: you are the personification of the war-torn land, suffering children and traumatized minds. You are human sufferings and sins personified. To save them is to save yourselves. Any questions?

Silence.

"Very well. What I said just now is mostly written down in these brochures, each of you can have one. I think I'll have to leave you here. I won't see you again unless some emergency happens. Good luck with you, ladies and gentlemen."

And then she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

"That's sheer absurdity! I mean, what if she was lying, and we are forever stuck?" A certain albino former country complained.

"Or worse, we will be discarded once we finish our 'work', like some processing robots in a shoe factory," commented the personification of South Italy.

"Isn't that what we are now?" said a Spaniard carelessly.

"Hey…don't be so cynical, dudes!" a cheerful, typical American voice raised, "I have proof she's right! Just close you eyes and stay quiet for a while, you can see your own people!"

"What if that is some trick too?" a boy with black eyes and long, sleek black hair retorted, playing a marble ball in his hand.

"No way! The people are numerous and look real, they can't all be fake! Plus, the idea of world government is awesome enough, why don't we get started?"

China frowned, "Of course you are a zealot of world government, they are your government anyway! Think about the United Nations, you don't even need its approve to invade Syria! I've long suspected the 'superpower A' to be you, though."

"Ridiculous! I never tramp on human rights without a reason, not to say initiating a world war! And it's because of countries like you and Russia that UN conferences always ended up with deadlock, first-and-second-generation commie bastards!"

"You…capitalist dog!"

"One-party dictator!"

"Democratic hypocrite!"

"Enough!"

England was standing, head buried between his shoulders, fists clenching, arms trembling, seemed to be enduring some severe pain. Then he slowly raised his head, mouth opened several times but no voice came out. All eyes on him.

"She was right. I could feel it. My people, my land…they were gone."

* * *

" _World News. A shipment of anti-radiation medicine and other equipment have reached the western coast of European Continent. The concentration of radiations in this area is expected to fall due to the movement of the North Atlantic Current. Still, experts say that nuclear pollution in this sea area would affect the sea creatures for decades, which means…"_

"Gosh, America must be right. They are too real to be some Truman's World." China pushed the "off" button on the TV remote, suddenly felt upset for the scenes he saw. Russia nodded, fumbling in a drawer which was filled to the brim with CD, including opera and movie. "It seems that they treat us well," he smiled a tiny smile while his eyes remained cold.

"So what should we do now, enjoy our comfortable retired life while writing the draft of some great utopia? I doubt anyone wants to publish it." China sank into an armchair, eyes half-lid, habitually took out the marble ball from his pocket.

"Hmm, I didn't remember my little panda-boy to be this bold and harsh." Russia's eyes narrowed into a thin line.

"You know, power of discourse, Mr. Ex-superpower."

Russia raised an eyebrow.

"Well…anyway, you are not really into that 'world government' thing, do you?"

"Of course not. Mother Russia is too great to be governed by those yanks."

"Me too, but how could we stop that stupid yank's scheme? He seemed too eloquent to be retorted, and he wouldn't give up until he gets what he wants."

"My dear panda-boy," Russia walked to the armchair and leaned on it, caressing the said boy's sleek black hair, "who said we are going to debate with him?"

"It's the only permitted way! Unless you want to be deprived of vote!" China protested, "You can't threaten them with arms, for they are not in your charge; you can't give them benefits, for you are not in charge of them either!"

"Good deduction. Now think what we have in hand?"

"We have only our bodies…oh you are not saying…"

"Exactly."

"But isn't that illegal?"

"As long as we make it private, on the basis of consensus, it's not illegal."

"Pfft, typically your way of justifying things, Ivan."

"Do you miss it?" Russia smiled fondly, leaning fore ward to kiss the other's forehead, "Anyway, I have been missing you too much, my little boy…"

* * *

"England! Wait, England! Arthur!" Shouted a honey blond running in a suit, "Please, we need to talk!"

The said man continued dashing towards living area, into a room and tried to lock the door when a strong arm stuck into the crack of the door, seizing his wrist.

"Get out of here," the man in the room warned.

"But Arthur, you looked…."

"I don't need your sympathy!" England hissed, "The world wars, the post-war economy, the alliance… now what? What do I have for you to sympathize? Aren't most of my last people already in your home, the Great Home of the Brave?"

"It's not like that! Arthur, I only want to…"

"Comfort me? Make me feel better so that I would gladly join your eliminate-all-the-borderlines-so-that-people-could-live-happily-together-ever-after New American Dream? I feel sick enough. Out. Now." England tried to close the door but America held on despite growing pain in his forearm.

"No! I just want to tell you that I…"

"Love me? Oh, dear Alfred, not now. If you really love me you wouldn't even wage the bloody nuclear war which turned England into a no-man's land and let me stuck here personifying nothing but still have to chat happily with you superpowers who still own tons of arsenal!"

"But…"

A sharp pain on the tip of his finger caught America off guard and before he could react, his arm was thrown out and the door shut. England must have bit his finger. It must had been very painful, for he felt hot streams running down his cheeks.

"But I just want to tell you that… I am so glad you are here."


	4. Chapter 4

He opened the door. The air was full of the warm scent of maple syrup and tea, a reassuring mixture.

"Hey, Mattie…"

The bespectacled boy with long curly hair turned around, a faint smile on his face, "Hi, Al. Sit down and have some tea."

"You know I'm not interested in tea, especially now." America pouted, but still sat down across from his twin brother, "By the way, why are you in my room?"

"I guess things didn't go on very well between you and England." Canada carefully cut a toast into pieces, then scoop out a spoonful of maple syrup.

"So you wanna help? Well things might become a little complicated, that old man seemed too broken…" America lowered his eyes, fidgeting with his fingers.

"It's not that bad, Al. You need to give him some time."

"How so?"

"England is not the only nation here whose territory is almost destroyed. Did you see Francis this morning? Oh you must have not, for your short attention span is always occupied by your former brother." Canada took a sip of tea, "He didn't do anything throughout the meeting, no hilarious jokes, no improper gestures, no nothing. When I visited him in his room later, he refused to talk to me. He didn't even kick me out, seemed too tired to do that. We just sat there in silence, I watching him, he watching a certain spot on the wall.

"Suddenly he asked me, 'What is a nation without her land and people?'

"I couldn't answer him, and soon I left the room.

"He'd been through bad things, Al. In WWII his country was occupied, his people enslaved, he had to flee to other countries, yet he stayed strong, with hope. Now I really don't know where hope is."

"You are making things sound worse, Matt."

"I am, but think about it: this is something we all will encounter one day. What if the world government replaced national governments, the borderlines were open, and we all become world citizens? Who is to inherit our legacies, our cultures, traditions and histories?"

"You mean I'll go to England and say, 'Hey, we are meant to die anyway, so cheer up, bro'?"

"No. What I'm saying is we ought to find a way so that people could live in peace and nations could survive. We don't exist for nothing, Al, even those without people and land. I think England and France would realize this somehow, we just need to give them time."

America was biting his lips, deep in thought.

"Very enlightening, Matt. I think we need some time, too."

* * *

The agenda was the first thing being decided. Germany listed a dozen of issues in order of significance, then it was passed without much resistance (partly because some supposed-to-be-active nations stayed silent throughout the meeting and therefore gave their tacit consent). Germany was elected to host the meeting. The next morning (the day after their waking up), the first session began.

"I think no one here would doubt that the most pressing issue is the arrangement of the arms," said Germany with a stern face, "as we agreed yesterday, the issue should be divided into three questions: how to dispose the nuclear weapons, how to dispose other regular arms and should any limits on be set on future arms.

"For the nuclear problem, I have received three proposal drafts. The first is from Sweden, Norway, Finland, Belgium and France, approving a total denuclearization. Second, there are America, Japan and Switzerland, in favour of a concentration of nuclear weapon in the hand of world government. Finally, we have Russia, China, Korea and India, asserting those now-nuclearized nations have right to own their nuclear weapon as long as they are limited. Now Sweden, you speak first, please."

The said bespectacled man stood up straight and coughed, "Well, considering our former failure to control nuclear weapon and the devastating consequences it led to, we have no option but to have all nuclear weapon eliminated. According to recent statistics, despite grave consummation in war, there are still 290 thousand of nuclear warheads existing around the world, which is enough to destroy the earth for…"

"Excuse me, Mr. Sweden, what are you trying to prove?" America cut in sharply.

"I'm proving the necessity to destroy all the nuclear weapons. Now if you please let me continue…"

"Oppositely! You are proving two things. First, there are too much nuclear weapons to destroy once and for all, yet not counting those secretly made ones; second, they are so powerful that, once those bad guys succeed in making some secret nukes, no one would be able to stop them from taking over the world!"

"Great speech, Mr. America," Korea challenged, "but you may have neglected a few things. Let's look into the history. When the Korean Peninsula had not yet united, my Northern neighbour had the ability to destroy me within minutes; if all nuclear weapons are concentrated in the hand of world government, how can we ensure every country's safety?"

"We could always build anti-nuclear systems all around the world!"

"Oh great, what if those systems are controlled by your so-called 'bad guys'? Who are the 'bad guys' by the way?"

"Sorry to interrupt, but…"

"Definitely not me!"

"Err.."

"How can you be sure? You own the most goddamn nukes in the world!"

"Emm…"

"At least I'm not some first-commie-then-not-now-turn-back-to-commie totalitarian peninsula country!"

"ARE YOU FINISHED?!"

Germany palmed his neatly-combed hair, chest heaving. This was only the first day, he already felt tired. Very tired.

"We are here to seek consensus, not to fight like some five-year-olds! Geez, could you please preserve some dignity, if not for yourself, at least for the people!"

"But…we _are_ the people…" someone murmured.

"Now who would like to give a presentation?" Germany asked. No one replied. "Well then, let's vote."

It turned out that none of the proposals won the majority. They were dismissed.

So much for the first session.

* * *

It was a huge room occupying almost a layer. There was no middle-age librarian with a deadpan face watching you behind the counter. Only books. Shelves of books ranging from different ages and languages. And magazines. And newspapers. Some of them were mutilated in an unnatural way, implying their suffering during the 4-year war.

America was searching through the rows, occasionally pulled out a book, scanned its contents, then put it back. "I wonder why they build a library if we could Google-search any information in our head within seconds…maybe to encourage us to read materials from other countries," he said to himself, "There we go! _The Goals and Practices of SIPRI_ in Swedish. Maybe helpful to understand what those Nordics have in mind. God, just who would risk being attacked by nukes…"

An idea suddenly occurred to him. "Nukes…England also had nuclear weapons, we even cooperated in developing counter-ICBM systems during the pre-war years. How could he get himself totally destroyed? Well Google search, you can come into use now."

America concentrated on the key words "UK" "ICBM" "defence system" "WWIII", then something came into his mind, bit by bit. He stepped forward, then run, to the newspaper section.

"New York Times…February 18th, 2035…page 4… _Relics of British Interceptors Detected Underseas_ …Brussels: Three destroyed British anti-missile interceptors were found 1000m underseas near the eastern coast of the Atlantic Ocean. No radiation was detected…"

His was holding the piece of newspaper now, his hands trembling. _No, there is no way_ …

"The location of the interceptors is top secret…It used to be only him and I knowing it…How come they _all_ got destroyed?! His intelligence department was better than that. Unless…No, no way…"

America gritted his teeth as realization dawned on him.

"Unless he got another ally, Japan or China or India, whatever…and he was betrayed."


	5. Chapter 5

The mid-noon sunshine was pouring down on the turquoise mountains and the piece of flat among them. The early-spring grass would be fragrant and ticklish if you pick up a handful of them. Yet England was pacing aimlessly, totally oblivious of the surroundings, except for the lake which he had been gazing at for minutes _. Lake. There is even a lake. Like I have never sailed the high seas and should appreciate the sight of a lake with glee._ He thought bitterly. _Maybe this is the largest pond England the artefact is meant to see in his short, artificial life._

Oh how he missed the seas. It had been his home, his life, his breath. He missed the smell of fish and seaweed in some random fishing village on the northeast coast of Northern Ireland. He missed the smell of gunpowder and blood at a military port in Portsmouth. He even remembered the acrid smoke combined with chemical dust hovering over the city of London. He could smell it miles away from the port when he sailed back home.

Now all is gone.

He didn't know why he was still alive, with his land destroyed and only a handful of people left. Maybe it was because of respect and sympathy from other countries. Or maybe his people were just too stubborn to let go. Either way, he would never know.

Then again, what was he supposed to do in a world without him?

"You okay?"

England sighed. Him again. It had to be him.

"As well as someone like me can be. And you?" he turned around, seeing a relieved look on America's face.

"Fine. Meeting deadlocked as always. Can't even get past the nuke issue." America's tone was too casual.

"Couldn't expect otherwise."

They stood still under the midday sun. Everything in sight bright and clear. The turquoise meadow. The glittering lake. The blue shadow of Alps far, far away. _Honey blond hair floating in the wind_. A flash of nostalgia shot though England's mind. A very quick flash.

"Well, you know, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings the other day," said England suddenly.

"It's okay."

"And I wonder…what were you trying to say at that time, if not interrupted?"

America bit his lips, then looked into England's eyes. _So green._

"I was trying to tell you…" _no sympathy, no comfort, no love, or maybe much more than all of them combined,_ "I'm glad you are here. Simply glad."

"Thank you," England's expression softened a little.

"And I want to tell you," America continued carefully, "you are welcome to come back to the meeting, anytime. And I'll always be there for you if you need me."

"I'll consider it," England turned away, began pacing again, "by the way, haven't you had lunch? We are artefacts, but not machine."

"Oh not yet. Gotta go. See you then." America beamed like a child before rushing off.

 _Typical American._ England shook his head, roaming further into the heart of the meadow.

* * *

"We need to persuade them. I know England. He is too proud to sell out his sovereignty, even if he has barely anything left. When he come back, which I know he would do, he would definitely be on our side. Maybe we could ask him to persuade France, or Belgium." said a thoughtful India. The four of them were gathering around a desk in a spare room, discussing strategies against the other blocs.

"Then what about the Nordics? They are far too radical to be talked over. None of them has a five-thousand-year-old historical heritage to inherit, or the glory of a former empire to preserve." China said, staring at the rolling marble ball in his hand.

"Nor have they experienced having a crazy neighbour threatening to bomb your land into space all day long," Korea hunched over the desk, taping it with the knuckle of his fingers, "And unfortunately, one third of the world seemed to agree with them. Another third seemed to approve a global-scale Leviathan. Once they unite, we'll be doomed."

"Is that so?" Russia finally said, long eyelashes half-covering his purple orbs, "We are nations. We all have our dignity and pride. The only problem is how to revive them."

"How?" asked China.

"Remember why we are here?"

"To formulate a constitution for the world government?"

"And that's because?"

"We almost killed each other in the WWIII…oh wait, I think I know what you mean."

"See? They castrated us so that we would happily enter a brave new world. They wiped out our memory of mutual hostility, regardless of the fact that our people still hold those emotions. If only we find and disclose some interesting facts during the past four years…"

"Then they would again fight each other for their own interest, and the draft of world government would be discarded once and for all…brilliant." Korea straighten up from the desk, eyes glittering with hope.

"But if so…why did people vote for a world government in the first place?" a still thoughtful India asked. Russia licked his lips.

"Because people always prefer enticing abstract principles to concrete loss of interest. People may agree to form a world government in principle, but if the government start taking the arms and autonomy away from them, they won't hesitate to revolt against it."

"Got it. Then what shall we do? It's not like we could hack into our own memory."

"Don't have to. Remember our powerful database? The time is continuous, past events don't lose all their traces. We have access to data and newspapers before and after the war, right? If we could gather as much information as possible, I think the truth would come out by itself."

"But we only have four of us, isn't the information limited?"

"We could use the limited information to form some hypothesis first, then verify them by talking to other countries. In an indirect manner, of course."

"Agreed." Korea raised his hand.

"Agreed." China nodded.

"Agreed," India said, "but I have a condition: I would stop if I think things start to get out of hand."

"It's up to you," Russia smiled, "Now let's go back to work, my dear friends."

India and Korea left the room. China leaned on Russia's shoulders, whispering,

"I saw them on the meadow this noon. They were talking."

"Very well." Russia fondled the other's back.

"Shall I do something? Other than keeping an eye on them?"

"Nothing, my little boy," a very fond smile, "Just leave the dirty work to me."

* * *

"The key point is to tell them the danger of possible illegal development of nuclear weapons by some evil countries," America stood in front of his seat, arms supporting his upper body, "After all, the Nordic guys have the same goal as us, they are better partners than those Asian old men."

"And shall we mention the missile defence system?" Japan asked.

"Yup, the missile defence system. For those countries located near the illegal nuke guys, they are allowed to develop their missile defence system under the supervision of world government. We could base the system on the fleet, just like the system developed by France, Italy and the UK before war, which was called…er…"

"PAAMS, or Sea Viper as dubbed in the UK. I still have some documentation of it from the Royal Navy. Just let me know if you need it."

America turned around, gasping, "England, how…"

"Just passing by. Think I might be helpful sometimes. And don't get me wrong, I am not likely to agree with you on all issues. Now go on with your discussion." Then he left.


	6. Chapter 6

The dining hall was a large one, large enough not to let the scent of different kinds of cuisine mix up. It felt bigger when there were only several persons left, most of whom were cooks. England was sitting behind a red round dining table, devouring a bowl of spicy Chinese noodles. It reminded him of those busy days working in the business buildings in central London, where takeaways were terrible and expensive, but endearing somehow. He did have tried delicious noodles, back in Hong Kong in the 1980s, but now he was eating noodles only because there was no other hot food left.

He was startled when a hand fell onto his shoulder. "Bonsoir, mon ami."

"Get away, frog, unless you want to have a mouthful of chili oil." England replied dryly. He knew France detested chili. To use his own words, his taste bud was "too delicate" for that.

"Ah, don't be so mean," France draped an arm around England's shoulders, "I just want to invite my dear Angleterre for a drink."

"Wh-who would like to drink with you," England turned away, not used to body contact, or was it just with France? Then he heard a sigh from his back, "You leave me with no choice, mon ami."

Suddenly his legs were in the air, before he could protest, France had thrown him on his back, walking towards the lift.

"Let go of me, you ugly frog! Wait, just where did you get this strength? You are not America!" England was kicking frantically. France didn't let him down until they were inside the lift and the lift door was closed.

"I was just testing my theory. First, nations with heavy casualty in the war tend to be weak. Although I am not much better, I still have a little advantage over you." England shot him a glare, noticing that the other was wiping his forehead, his face paler than usual.

"And second…you haven't had a meal for days."

* * *

"One whisky, one champagne, please."

The small bar was dark apart from the dim orange light above the counter. They and the bartender were the only people there.

"It's a nice bar, non?" France glanced at the wooden door across from the counter, "I could almost smell wine in that lovely cellar."

"Must be from pre-war Champagne or Bourgogne, then?" England was watching the liquid swirling in the glass.

"Oui."

"Thank God we have some more things to live for."

"Remember Norte-Dame?" France switched topic suddenly. He was looking at England now, one somehow melancholy eye hiding behind the too-long locks.

"Of course." England took a sip.

"I was on the spot when the accident happened to her in 2019. I could only watch the flame engulfing her delicate spire. Many people were watching silently.

"I had never felt so helpless in my life. Not when the revolutionists were damaging the historical relics, not when Paris was under Nazi's control. Not even now.

"I was helpless because we couldn't justify ourselves on that accident. We didn't damage it in the name of some idealist purposes. We didn't give out our autonomy to preserve something more important. We were simply not paying enough attention to protect those things that make us who we are." France finished his first glass in a gulp, but didn't ask for more.

"So who do you think we are?" England asked, "Our nation without personification, I mean. Although we are isomorphic with the nation, and our emotion is rooted in people's will, I still find some of them so private that they should not be involved in defining a nation."

France smirked, "That's where our differences lies. You always think you are something higher than the nation, that is, the people, the history, the culture. You always want to care for, to protect, maybe to control your nation, and if you fail to do that, you blame yourself."

"I know I am." England said, gesturing the bartender for two more glasses, "Elitist by nature."

"Exactly." France took his glass from the bartender's hand, "Thank you."

"Or maybe not naturally so. During my empire days, ruling people of different nation and culture, you must have something to bind them together. The spirit is the same today. We have four main parts, but you cannot simply say four pieces adding together is what we are."

"Right, but the current situation is a little different. Elites are nothing if they have no people to rule, but if you _are_ generations of people and their thoughts and practices, you are able to carry on even if your people no longer exist.

"I know it might be hard to accept. I have gone through a long way myself. It was the Revolution that first gave me the idea of cosmopolitanism. And there was Victor Hugo and the so called 'United States of Europe' and other humanitarian pursuits. And then there was the support for UN and other global organizations.

"I'm not suggesting a certain ideology or some concrete political goals. I just think my people have it in them the belief in some universal values like human rights and peace. I believe they must be among the first ones to protest against the war, no matter what role their country played in it. And I will try my best to express my people's beliefs."

Empty glasses collided with a clear sound. The bartender was taking their glasses away. England had been as still as a marble for minutes, cheeks flushed pink due to alcohol, emerald orbs tinted with amber under the dim orange light.

"I think I need some time to think through it."

"I understand. How about I leave you here? Just don't get yourself drunk."

"Of course I won't, your miserable frog."

"Anyway," France left a word before he exit the bar, "Ce n'est rien de mourir, C'est affreux de ne pas vivre." *****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *English translation: It is nothing to die. It is dreadful not to live.


	7. Chapter 7

"…So, the conclusion is, the only plausible way to wipe out nuclear weapons is to put them directly under world government's control, then take measures like supervision and regular investigations to gradually remove the threat of the possibly nuclearized countries. This process might take decades, but the prospect is clear, safe and foreseeable." America finished his speech—the last one of this session—then sat down on his seat.

"Any question, objection, or supplement?" Germany asked, pushing his glasses up.

"One question." England, who heard through all speeches carefully but remained silent this afternoon, raised his hand, "As the resources on earth is extremely limited, the development of nuclear plant seems inevitable. However, some countries have long been experimenting nuclear weapons under the guise of generating energy, and it is difficult to tell them apart. Does that mean that kind of threat remains permanent?"

"Er, I think not, and that's why long-term supervision mechanism is needed. For those who refuse to be part of the system, we could always use economic sanction and stuff."

"Very well," said the gentleman, "You can go on, Mr. Speaker."

Germany cleared his throat, "Now, please raise your hand if you approve proposal A, which was presented in Mr. America's speech."

…

"Well now let's see…one, two, three, …and don't for get to count myself… Ladies and gentlemen, we have a slight majority, the first majority we have so far achieved."

Some applauded. Some frustrated looks exchanged.

"Now you are dismissed. Remember to return tomorrow morning, we will be discussing the form or organization of the world government."

* * *

"England, you are back! Finally!" America couldn't help (as if he had been holding back) but crush into England with a big hug, "Aww, thank god!"

"Just don't forget to thank big brother for bringing back your little bunny, dear Amerique." France was winking at them across from the table.

"Oh shut up, frog! …and g-get off me you idiot! Haven't I taught you about personal space?" England was blushing. Crazily.

'Don't wanna~Unless you have dinner with me. And tell me what France did to you!"

"He didn't… well, I guess…" balancing between two evils, England finally conceded, "Fine, let's go to dinner."

* * *

They went to the Italian food area which located in the middle of the canteen. America was eyeing and smiling to every country passing by while England just stared blankly at the menu.

"Ciao~ England, you are back~" a sweet voice came from behind England's seat, definitely belonging to a North Italian, "We were all worrying about you!"

"Do stay, the meeting was a mess without you." said Germany who was terrible at hiding his concern, even with a stern face.

"Thank you. I will try my best to do my part." England gave them a polite smile.

"Which means he'll do his best to back me up." said America with a cocky beam and a "V" gesture. England sent him a glare.

"Hey, I bet England didn't want to come because you always makes him upset! American bastard!" a grumpy South Italy passed by with pasta in his plate.

"Come on, Lovino, it's not like everyone has a twisted relationship like—Ah! U-us." Spain didn't finish his words when an elbow hit right into his ribs, "Be tender~ Mi querido~"

"Who is in relationship with you! A-And who is your _Querido_!"

"Denial is a sin, you know."

"You bastard!"

"Nice to see you again, England-san." Japan walked in as if there wasn't two men fighting with pasta flying in the air, "Thank you for the work you've done for us."

"You are welcome. It was for my people, too." England's tone turned down as he pronounced "my people".

"Don't be so sad, bro, you are even more awesome than the awesome me!" said Prussia appearing suddenly from nowhere, "You have my respect. Really. I mean it."

When the crowd began to disperse, Canada wanted to come over to say hi, but France grabbed his arm, murmuring something like "Don't disturb them" in French.

Then they were alone again.

"You know, England, you don't have to push yourself if you don't really want to," America said softly, "Not that I was not happy with that. I simply feel something in you is still…off."

England thought for a moment, "Nice perception, but…"

"Codfish with creamy mushroom sauce?" A waitress came over with dishes in her trolley.

"Mine, thank you." England gestured at his side of the table, then turn to America, "I'm sorry, Alfred. Maybe this is not the best place for a deep, long talk, if that's what you mean."

"No prob. I'll wait until you are ready." America lowered his eyes, couldn't hide a little sadness in them. England felt a stab of guilty for the first time in these days, which meant he failed to do so even when he said "sorry" sometimes. This time, however, he didn't say anything.

They hurried out of the canteen for a group discussion after the meal.

* * *

Russia sank himself in an armchair, head resting on his hand.

China wasn't with him. He was enjoying his regular 'beauty sleep', so to speak.

He suppressed the mind image of an idiotic grin of a certain yank after the landslide victory, along with a calm, emotionless voice with thick British accent.

He felt sick. For them, and for himself.

Did he have to do it? He asked himself repeatedly. During his long life, or long memory, he had asked himself similar questions thousands of times. Was it worth it to tramp on his own conscience to reach for something higher, more glorious, and more sacred? Would he even have the right to own it, with hands soaked in blood and heart cold as Siberian snow?

He already knew the answer. He was only lamenting a part of him which was dying. Rotting, to be exact.

 _БОЙ_. He closed his eyes. He couldn't falter. _Russian soldiers never falter_.

And once he stepped forward, there was no way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some translations:  
> Mi querido: my dear, my darling  
> Бой: fight, battle


	8. Chapter 8

Vatican City drew out her chair in a meeting room slightly smaller than the main one. She sat down carefully, noticing not to step on the hem of her long black dress or to wrinkle her sleek black scarf. Two dozen of countries was already there, chatting or texting to other nations (they couldn't use cellphones to get access to people outside this building, of course). Vatican felt upset, she didn't remember attending such a...eh…crowded meeting for a while. Not counting the world meeting they held every day, because there were so many people that no one would notice her.

Then came America and England, exchanging little looks and body languages all along the way. _Oh no_ , she thought, _they think no one is aware of what they are doing_. _It's simply not right to behave so gaily in a world meeting…not that it's right to be gay in private._

The Italian brothers seemed gay too, but that's different. One of them was in denial while the other was simply oblivious. She could put up with that. _But they are well aware of it. For god know how long. They must have committed sodomy and…things_ she didn't even want to know. Her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

"Hey dudes, welcome to our awesome group discussion!" The prologue must be painfully American, for England visibly rolled his eyes. "Sorry to occupy your spare time, but this is important. We are discussing the organization of the government tomorrow. Several of us, including me, are done with our proposal, but I think it's better to reach consensus with as much nations as possible before the meeting. I'll start straight if you don't mind."

Vatican wanted to raise her hand, but someone spoke first.

"Wait, is there a reason why I'm here? I'm not even one of you western democracies." Thailand asked with her big black eyes blinking.

"Good question, ma dame," replied France, "Amerique and I agreed that as long as the intention is good, we shouldn't let our little differences in ideology get in the way."

"So yeah, that's the spirit. Now let's get started." America said, "I'm going to outline a few issues and give our basic opinions on them. Ask me anytime if you have questions or need clarification."

The present nations nodded.

"Very well. Our principle is, the government should be divided into legislature, executive and judicial powers. I think you all agree with that, at least formally.

"The first issue is the organization of legislative branch. In UN now we have a General Assembly and a Security Council, resembling the two houses in a democracy. However, if the new government is to gain any legitimacy, we should hold general elections which link the government directly to the people. Any question for now?"

"A world-wide general election is an old idea. It was discarded because there is no feasibility." Commented South Africa, "If we assign delegates in proportion with each country's population, China and India are likely to become the world's biggest dictators while some countries wouldn't even have a say."

 _That would be me. Though now I barely have a say anyway._ Vatican looked at America, who was saying something right into England's ear, head tilted into an angle that it looked like he was nipping the other's ear shell. Vatican looked back at her own sleeves. _Oh how long should I put up with this._

"Yup, that's exactly the question I wanted to address." America finished his small talk and turned back to everyone, "We don't have to assign delegate exactly in proportion with population. We could use other standards, like level of education, to ensure delegates' capability."

"But what about national government's authority? Wouldn't an elected delegate have the same popularity and faith from people as the head of the state? Would it be treason to obey one of them while defying another?" Vatican found herself speaking out loud. _OH NO, I SPOKE. IN A GAY-NATION-ORGANIZED MEETING. GOD IS GOING TO JUDGE ME._

"Well that's an interesting question. I guess many of you have the same concern." England spoke calmly, "Try to think this way. In many contemporary countries, people have at least two leaders: one political and one religious, like Pope. Of course, Miss Vatican, in your country the two identities belong to the same man, but most people could tell them apart.

"You talked about faith. Actually, we hope the world government be something people have faith of, a faith beyond borderline and the division of race and language. Something like religion, only in a different level. It's difficult, but I think someday people would learn to cope with different layers of loyalty. I'm sorry if I couldn't give more detail now, but I think this suffice to answer your question."

Vatican stared at him for a while, regardless of how improper it might seem. _He is genuine_. _He has no personal interest given what he has lost._ _All he wants is to save god's creation, in a manner that everyone would be equal and united._

America seemed to be aware of the stare, for he swiftly grabbed England's shoulder and said something in his ear that made the shorter man blush before returning to the meeting to discuss the rest of the points.

And since then, Vatican has believed that god would forgive her for being at the same meeting with those gay nations.

* * *

"So, any discoveries?" China couldn't hide the smugness in his tone, glancing at his three partners.

"Dull facts, don't worth mentioning." Korea replied with a bored look, "most of my pre-war military documentations were conceiving North as potential enemy, so a lot of studies. Who knew the regime would crumble overnight on the eve of the Great War? And obviously, I aligned with you three…no, except for India, during the war. I guess I was not on the main frontline, for there was few information about the enemies…or maybe because my intelligence department was poorly developed. And…oh right, Japan. Japan was definitely on the other side, for he tried to invade me at one time during the war, but not for long. I guess it was because of the nuclear weapons you two offered me, but again…I suffered from nuclear bombing, too, so Japan had a sponsor, which was highly likely the US."

China and Russia didn't seem too impressed. India thought for a while before starting his speech:

"These inferences accord with mine, but maybe I could explain more. I wasn't Korea's ally because I stayed neutral for a long time, and I only offered China and Russia indirect aid like financial and military ones. However, this didn't prevent me from being severely bombed, so my people reacted most strongly, demanding peace at the third year of the war. Japan joined me soon, which could account for the short invasion to Korea.

"I don't know much about America. As for England, France and some other European countries, they were mainly fighting Iran and Pakistan in Middle East and Central Asia. But basically it was just England and France, for no other European countries were nuclearized. France practically drawn the whole EU with him, but due to the decade of depression preceding the war that attacked most western nations, that didn't make much difference."

China crossed his arms when Russia began speaking:

"Your narratives are generally correct. China and I were the two countries that directly confronted America and his western allies. Though China had become the world' s largest economy, he was kind of undefended militarily, while I was the opposite. It was only natural for us to ally with each other.

"I didn't know who initiated the war, but I do know how it ended. In the late spring of the fourth year of the war, which was exactly one year ago, a wave of nuclear attack fell upon both sides of the Atlantic, with surprising speed and unprecedented intensity. England and France were almost destroyed during the raid, which was bizarre because the two countries had one of the most advanced missile defence system before the war. America remained relatively unscathed. The world was shocked by this so called "humanitarian disaster". People began protesting and uprising even in our camp. And the rest, you know, is our history."

They stayed silent for a while, processing the new information. Slowly, China raised his head, black eyes lightened with confidence and determination.

"I think I know what happened in the fatal spring…and how to turn this world meeting upside down."

* * *

India wore a complicated expression when he came out from the small meeting room. _Oh god, this shouldn't have happened_ , he thought, _this is too much for_ _ **him**_ _, for_ _ **them**_ _, for the whole war-torn world_. But did he have a choice? He didn't like the idea of a world government, not when it threatened to grab his arm and seize his power and possibly eliminate his cultural identity. He had too much to lose. _All for my people,_ he whispered to himself, _for my kind, faithful, obedient people._

"Oops, my cellphone!" he suddenly recalled putting his cellphone on the meeting table, but without taking it with him when he left. It was of no use if you don't have someone special to contact, but still, it was something.

India rushed down the corridor, only to find the meeting room door closed. _Who did this? I don't think it can be locked from outside_ , he thought. Then he heard something.

Someone, to be exact.

"Do we have to do this? I mean, I've found the way to divide them up and stir their hostility!"

"Nah, you are still too naïve, my dear little boy. To carry out your plan, we need some time to find concrete evidence and to talk to some of them. Time doesn't wait, however. The government issue is to be put on the table tomorrow. We have already lost a crucial battle. We can't bear losing another."

A long time of silence. Then said the smaller, softer voice of the two:

"I understand. Now tell me what I should do."

…

India had been stuck to the door for a while, the tremble of his hand was getting worse. _No, this is too much. I can't let them do it, but I can't expose them either. There is only one way out._

Then he started dashing towards a certain direction.

_Tell him._


	9. Chapter 9

America was sitting on his bed, a book borrowed from the library at hand, trying to dig out some information about the war. He blinked when he heard someone knocking at the door. _Who would visit at this time of the night?_

“Alfred.”

He got the answer.

He swung the door open in a haste. A slender body was leaning on the door frame, emerald eyes calm and cold. His voice, however, betrayed his nervousness and uncertainty.

“…Do you have time tonight? Uh…I mean…maybe a walk…”

“Yeah!” America grinned immediately, “Sure, why not? Just a moment, I’ll change into something comfy.” He rushed to his wardrobe and started undressing. England pulled the door half-closed, suddenly interested in some random star outside the corridor window.

A few minutes later, two blond men in their casual attire were wandering aimlessly on the meadow, side by side, looking at anywhere but each other. No one felt obliged to break the silence.

“You know, it was back in my colonial days that I last saw such a clear, starry sky.” America had been looking up for a while, like a child staring curiously at the big, colourful screen when he first went to the cinema. Then he poked at England’s shoulder, pointing at a big, bright star, “That’s Vega right? You told me about her when I was little. I haven’t seen her bathed in blue glow for centuries.”

“Unexpected gift from the war, isn’t it?” England said bitterly, “I bet the night sky is a hundred times more amazing back in London now.”

America waited for the other to continue, but words never came. They somehow ended up sitting at the bank of the lake. England was hugging his knees. America crossed his legs. Their clothes were slightly damped by the dewy grass beneath, but neither of them seemed to care.

After what felt like a century, England let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry if I have been avoiding you these days, Alfred. I know it’s wrong. I just couldn’t help it.”

“No need to be sorry. We’ve been through this.” America said softly, surprisingly not blurring words, “An improper analogy: when I was traumatized by the civil war, I didn’t want to see or hear people for quite a few months. I didn’t detest them, I just didn’t know how to behave in front of them, how to act like myself as if my self-identity were not seriously challenged.”

“I understand.” Emerald eyes were still hiding beneath long, fluttering eyelashes, refusing to be beheld, “It’s just…oh god it’s…it’s more severe, Alfred, I don’t think any nation has been through this, or rather, no nation could have been through this without ceasing to be a nation. It’s just like no human would live to know the pain of being beheaded. It’s simply against our very existence.”

“I won’t say that I understand, but you could at least try to let me help shoulder it.” America bit his lips before reaching out to envelope England’s slender fingers in his large, calloused ones. “I’ll always be there for you. I thought you know it.”

“Thanks, I…know that quite well.” England’s eyes were finally on him. He didn’t remember them to be so beautiful, so vulnerable, yet so stern and invincible. “It’s not your fault. Let all blame be on me. I just couldn’t face you anymore, Alfred. Not when I have nothing to offer you. I couldn’t protect you, couldn’t help you, couldn’t even please you with my lifeless body without a soul. I couldn’t bear the thought that you might no longer recognize me, care for me or even…love me.

“So I thought, let England rest in peace. Sing her a requiem. She might live longer in that way, to some extent.”

“But I don’t want you to die!” America was now kneeling in front of England, holding the older man’s hands to his chest, tears threatening to fall from his big blue eyes. “I won’t discard you. I won’t leave you behind. I won’t stop loving you and I thought you know better than that!”

“Then answer me: what am I?”

“Arthur! It’s not the time for philosophy!”

“It always is, Alfred. Do you think I am my people, my land, my history, my thoughts and beliefs or do you think I am merely someone who resemble the intimate figure in your artificial memory?”

“I…I think you are them all.”

“Each of them or all of them combined?”

“That’s nonsense! Did Francis tell you this? Why did you choose believe him rather than me? Or do you—”

“THAT DAMN WELL MAKE FUCKING SENSE THINK ABOUT IT IF YOUR PEOPLE WERE ELIMINATED AND NUMEROUS AFRICANS AND ASIANS AND MUSLIMS FLOOD INTO YOUR LAND AND LEARN ABOUT YOUR CULTURE AND HISTORY WOULD YOU CALL THEM AMERICANS YES CALL ME A RACIST BUT RACE AND BLOOD DO MATTER!”

England was panting heavily, his whole body shaking, cheeks flushed deep pink from the outburst. America was still on his knees, eyes widened in shock and hurt and disbelief. England couldn’t gaze into those baby blue eyes anymore, so he slightly turned his head away and said in a softer tone:

“Or…let me put it this way. What are you so proud of when you are singing The Star-Spangled Banner? Who are you fighting for when your national security is under threat? And finally, why would you give your life to someone you haven’t met, something you can’t even make sense?”

America slumped onto the grass, just sat there for minutes. Then he laughed dryly.

“Yeah, maybe…I can’t answer the question what a nation is. And I can’t make you stop wondering it. I think the question has its significance.

“However, artificial or not, we are more than nations. We are people’s collective will, but still, a _free will_. We are dual beings who possess both nationality and humanity.

“I don’t know how human beings make a correspondence between the two. You can question their algorithms, but that doesn’t change who you are.

“I don’t know much about you as a nation. But I definitely know who you are, as a human. You are the one who raised me with all tenderness and care, the one who always pierce through my happy disguise when I actually feel upset, the one whose smiles were so rare but oh so warm they could melt the Arctic Ocean, the one who refused to moan my name but occasionally spat out British slang and obscenities when we…you know. I don’t care where you come from, what you stand for, that’s humans’ concern. I only need to follow my heart, which tells me that the personification of America is deep in love with the personification of England.

“You might call it an illusion, a dream, but I don’t want to wake up to a real world where my dearest is deemed to naught.”

They were only inches from each other. America gently ran a hand on England’s cheek, then leant down to kiss away a small drop of tear on the other’s corner of eye, only to let more droplets falling down. England was sobbing.

“You immature,” sniff, “intolerable,” sniff, “idealistic,” a sharp inhale, “git, but god damn me if I haven’t missed you so much.”

“Then how about we don’t hold back anymore?” in the dim moonlight, America visibly smirked, “How about I kiss you properly until you forget how to cry? You know, our first kiss if the past doesn’t count…”

“Oh belt up.” England impatiently pulled the other man in, hesitated for a second when their noses rubbed, but immediately made up his mind and covered his thin lips on America’s slightly chubby ones. It was a chaste, sweet kiss, but both men were aroused at the mere thought of having each other again. Soon it evolved into something fervent, frenzy and furious. They were touching, licking, nipping and exploring, as if trying to devour each other from inside out, as if having some oral intercourse that no one have tried out because of the intimacy. Their hands were roaming from hair to cheeks to necks to hips, pulling and pushing each other until England was lying flat on the grass and America was straddling him, their bodies squirmed in desire.

“May I?” America’s fingers were lingering dangerously around England’s shirt button right beneath the smooth, creamy throat, all he needed was a little nod and he would mercilessly rip his prey apart. “Or we could do it in your room, if you prefer.”

But what he got was a firm shake of head.

“I’m sorry, Alfred. Not that I don’t want to. It would be kind of a first time. I just want to do it properly, when I am physically and mentally prepared.”

“I don’t mind—"

“But I do. Forgive the strange persistence of an old man, will you?”

“Yeah,” America reluctantly stood up, offering a hand to England, “Let’s go back home.”

The two left the meadow, cuddling and snuggling. Neither of them was aware of a black figure lurking in the shadow, witnessing everything they did.

“How enviable, but don’t worry, this is going to end soon.”

* * *

America was lying on his bed in pyjamas, contemplating the coming meeting. It was well past midnight, but pressure and the previous event kept him sober. _England’s tears. England’s scent. England’s soft lips pressed on his and oh it felt so right just like their first kiss in his memory…Now come back to reality. The only thing that can protect him is a peaceful new world…_

Knock, knock.

America practically fell onto the floor. _Who’s visiting at this time of the night?_ An idea made his adrenaline rush, _maybe England changed his mind…_

“Good evening, Mr. America, or shall I say good morning?”

It was India. Oh how silly he was.

“It’s up to you, India. What’s the problem?”

“Mr. America,” India’s expression became very, very serious, “I want you to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Keep an eye on Mr. England these days. Better take him by your side. Just don’t leave him alone.”

“I’d love to, but what for?”

India lowered his eyes to hide the trace of a fierce inner battle, “Sorry, I can only tell you this much.”

“Wha-”

“I’m serious. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Good night, Mr. America.”

Before America could respond, India had disappeared down the corridor.


End file.
